The Greatest Betrayal.

I see you. Sitting there on your white ceramic throne, decorated with silver Arabic inspired artistry. Swift ,soft, smooth lines and curves like your creamy top that towers to the heavens, only your top has chocolate shavings and is drizzled with deep milky chocolate sauce. 

You. You sit there thinking I cannot see you, but I do. At times I wonder if you know that I see you, that I like...no, I love you and deeply desire you to be mine...hmm...or are you aware and sit there taunting every bit of me on purpose, with your beauty and goodness, that I should make a move? More importantly do you or don't you want me to approach you? Well, today we shall both find out.

Excitement. My heart is racing, palms sweaty and deep inside I feel all types of knots twisting and turning, then all my inner butterflies are let loose and its mayhem. I walk towards the counter, stealing glances at you. This feels surreal. I'm finally going to get you. 

"One chocolate fudge cake please," I say as I point at you. There seems to be a happy glow around you. It’s like you were also waiting just for me because perfect you is all that is left, and to be honest, at this point in life-you are all that I need. Delicately the cashier lifts you up, off your ceramic throne, places you in a silver one. She then carefully packs into you in your carriage-a quaint white box and soon we are on our way.

At last my darling, at last, you are mine…and I, my darling, could not wait to have you to myself, in fact I have everything set. Music- At Last by Etta James https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bwzDxp2TC7I , check, some place cosy, check. All that is left is you, me and the party that we are about to get started.

If I could express the love I have for you, you would probably melt into a puddle. “J’adore, my darling,” I say as I bring you closer to me from your carriage. You are so beautiful. I take a moment to soak up the sight and scent of you.

Three stack layers or deep, dark fudgy chocolate cake with milky white cream separating each stack from the next. In between the stacks lie red strawberries and grapes and deep yellow mango slices as if to show the radiance of our love. On the top are chocolate shavings that looked like confetti and milky chocolate sauce to seal the deal. Time to indulge.

I carefully cut through the stack and my taste buds are activated, sort of like lighting fireworks and waiting for the beautiful explosion of lights and colour. I take a bite and oh…

The music stops. My mind starts racing in disbelief. What just happened!

Tongue to brain, “Code red!!!Pull out! Abort love mission. This is a no go zone. I repeat abort! Abort!” What I have tasted, I cannot untaste and I am mortified.

 “How? What! Why did this happen? I thought you loved me?” I utter in shock and disappointment for what went down my throat was the foulest thing I ever did taste.

Instead of fresh, moist, very chocolatey and fudgy tropical cake I got sour, dense, cardboard tasting cake, and the cream. It tasted like dollops and dollops of margarine! The swallow felt like I had just consumed something so old and dead that my stomach shuddered. Yuck!  

“Why my love? Why?” I contemplated. It’s like she knew it all along, that she was going to go rogue and break my heart to smithereens. 

I could feel the hot tears brimming. I had even given a token of appreciation at the counter and this the gratitude I get? As if that wasn’t enough now my whole body was reacting. 

It’s like the cake transformed to mini Spartans charging at my stomach with knives, spears, clubs and all to fight to the death. Oh…gag. A wave of nausea sweeps over me as the mini Spartans threaten to revenge my love indulgence by climbing right up my throat.

Betrayed. Deeply betrayed is all I feel. That my love was like the proverbial glitter that was not gold. “I’m sorry but it’s over,” I say to her as I bury what is left of her in the deepest trash can I can find…gag.  I tried but seems my love wasn’t good enough. Seems like we were never meant to be, and that my friend is the greatest betrayal.